


Dungeon With a Door To Oblivion

by Bishie Huntress (Artemystic)



Series: 2016 NaNo Prompts [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: (duh), Background Betrayal, Dungeons, Fantasy AU, Gen, The Oblivion Door didn't happen yet, bad memories, sorrz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 15:07:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemystic/pseuds/Bishie%20Huntress
Summary: There's a dungeon, and a discussion, and not much else. :shrugs:





	Dungeon With a Door To Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> tw: mentions of vomiting. enter at your own risk?

* * *

“Hey, watch it!” Ed complained as he was shoved roughly into a dungeon cell. They’d shoved at his shoulders—freakin’ giants—and his feet couldn’t keep up with the momentum. Ed went sprawling, banging his elbow hard on the stone floor. “Ow, fuck!”

Roy was pushed in after him. His feet got tangled in Ed’s legs and he fell on top of him, and Ed’s head hit the ground, too.

“Shit fuck damn!” he cursed, blinking away bright spots. The guards laughed and slammed the door shut with a loud clang, and Ed winced. A key grated in the lock, and the guards walked away.

“Get off me!” Ed shoved at Roy until he could roll him off. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Roy stared up at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused. His fingers twitched, but he didn’t make a sound.

“Seriously, what is wrong with you?” Ed sat up and waved his hand in front of Roy’s face. It looked like Roy made an effort to focus on his hand, but ultimately gave up.

Ed reached down and carefully gripped one eyebrow hair, then yanked. Roy didn’t even flinch.

“Great. Did they torture you? Drug you?” Roy’s fingers twitched again. “Maybe it was magic. Gah! What is wrong with this place?”

Ed laid back against the floor again, ignoring the fact that there was a filthy cot not ten feet away. Like he wanted to touch that thing. He stared up at the ceiling, himself. There were cobwebs in the corners, mold in dark places—the whole cell was dark, what did that say?—and he thought he saw a cockroach go scurrying into a crack at one side. Gross.

Suddenly, Roy gasped in a great breath of air as though he’d been drowning, and sat bolt upright. Ed rolled his eyes over to look at him.

“What crawled up your butt?”

The other man startled badly, whipping around to stare at Ed as though he’d never seen anything like him. Then his shoulders relaxed. He glanced around and took in their current living conditions. Then his eyes settled back on Ed.

“What—“ He stopped to clear his throat. “What happened? Where are we?”

Ed shrugged, not bothering to sit up. “Dunno. They took you away for ‘questioning’, and next thing I know, they’re hauling both of us out of that schmancy room and down here. We’re still in the castle. What happened to you?”

Roy’s brows drew together. He stared at the wall past Ed. “I don’t know. The last thing I remember, Captain Jensen pulled us into a side street to talk.”

“Yeah, that was a trap. We got ambushed by a couple dozen guards and ended up here. They think we kidnapped the crown prince or something. Or at least they’re trying to pin it on us. Can’t think why.”

“I’m sure I could think of a few reasons,” Roy said under his breath.

“Okay, I can’t think of any _valid_ reasons.”

Roy just _hmm’d_ and tried to stand. And nearly fell over. Ed had to move quick to catch him or risk being crushed under him again.

“Y’know,” he grunted, “for all that you’re so flimsy looking, you sure do weigh a lot.”

Roy pulled himself off of Ed and knelt. He shot a smirk at Ed. “It’s all muscle.”

Ed just raised an eyebrow. “Sure it is.”

Roy ignored the doubt in his voice and tried to stand again, swaying before he even got one foot under him.

“Whoa! Take it easy, old man! I’ve had enough of you falling on me for one day, thanks.”

Roy shot him a glare, but Ed stood and held out a hand to him, bracing himself. With a meaningful sigh, Roy took his hand, and Ed steadied him as he finally made it to his feet. He swayed all over like a newborn fawn, though, so Ed carefully guided him to the nasty cot and helped him sit.

“Maybe you should take it easy for a little bit,” he suggested.

“You think?” Roy shot back. “Oh, I’m gonna be sick.” He clapped both hands over his mouth and closed his eyes.

Ed jumped back and glanced around desperately. If Roy vomited in here… Chamber pot, thank goodness! He nearly leapt across the cell to grab the thing, supremely happy to find it empty, and dashed back to shove it under Roy’s face.

“Here!”

Roy cracked an eye, then grabbed the chamber pot and heaved. Ed politely turned away and moved to the other side of the room, trying not to hear the retching. His stomach turned over, and he swallowed reflexively. Finally, the wet sounds came to an end, and Ed turned back around.

“Better?” he asked.

“N-not really.” Roy’s hands shook and, fearing that he’d drop the pot, Ed hurried over and took it from him, breathing shallowly through his mouth. He took it back to the corner it had come from and left it.

“Looks more like they drugged you than anything,” Ed commented, “though I suppose it could still be magic.”

Roy sat back on the cot and pulled his knees up to his chest. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the cool stone wall. “Unlikely,” he said, the set to his jaw tight.

“And you probably didn’t even try to fight back,” Ed said.

“I resent the implication that I am useless, Edward.”

“You said it, not me. And would you stop calling me that!”

Roy peered at him from one dark eye. “What, your name?”

“Yes! I mean… stupid.” Ed glanced away. “Look, I don’t like ‘Edward’, alright? Just call me Ed.”

There was a thoughtful pause. “Why not?” Roy finally asked, and Ed wondered if that was the first straight question he’d ever asked in his life.

“Because,” he said, intending to leave it at that, but Roy’s eye slid closed and his face just looked so pathetic and _green_ _,_ that Ed figured talking about it might at least distract him.

“Because,” he said again, “my old man used to call me that. My mum said he’d picked the name. She’d liked it okay, but she preferred to call me ‘Ed’ because it sounded less stuffy.”

“You didn’t get along well with your father?”

Ed snorted. “How would I know? The bastard left when I was three. Just walked right out the door in the middle of the night.” Old bitterness saturated his voice, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“My parents died when I was three,” Roy said. “I don’t remember them much.”

“I remember _everything_ _,”_ Ed said darkly.

* * *


End file.
